


Fridays

by Eggboy64



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 16:25:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16287917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggboy64/pseuds/Eggboy64
Summary: Nagito Komaeda is brought in to help test Izuru Kamukura's luck. Whatever happens, happens.





	1. First Meeting

“Um… Hello?” 

As soon as Nagito Komaeda enters the small room, he sees him. Dark and looming, the boy’s long near-black hair drapes neatly around his body, like a shadowy cloak, separating him from the rest of the light-filled world. The illusion of shadow is further completed by his outfit- a dark suit, with barely a hint of white peeking out from his long-sleeved shirt underneath. His thin arms are crossed, creating a barrier between him and his visitor, in more ways than one. The place where Nagito finds the most fascination is his eyes, though. While the rest of his presentation seems aggressive and closed off, his eyes give off… Nothing. They seem to be looking through Nagito, not to find something inside him, but rather seeing if there is anything else under the surface.  _ Of course _ , Nagito thinks,  _ the boy is also extremely attractive. _ As usual, as soon as the thought enters his mind, he quickly banishes it. He can’t afford to let his… odd preferences affect the outcome of this meeting. After all, he is being expected to help the  _ Ultimate Hope _ , of all people! After a few moments of staring at the boy, Nagito decides that he isn’t planning to respond, so he goes ahead and speaks at him again. 

“My name is Nagito Komaeda! I was called in here to, uh…”  _ God, don’t screw this up. Please. Don’t make him hate you, even though it’s what you deserve.  _ He puts on a large, friendly smile. “I’m here to help you test your luck, apparently, though I don’t know what good a useless character like me could do!” He pulls out the chair opposite to him, and gestures to it: “Do you mind if I sit here?” When the shadow doesn’t respond again, he sits down anyways, and puts both arms down on the table. He attempts to get another look at his eyes, but the copious amounts of hair gets in the way of his view. 

“So, your name is Izuru, right?”

He waits another few seconds. Just when he’s about to give up hope, the shadow’s mouth moves, slow, mechanical. His voice spills out like honey from a bottle, with the same sort of stickiness. Luckily for Nagito, he has always been a fan of honey. 

“I’m bored of you.”

“Huh?”

_ Of course, why wouldn’t he be. I must be so boring to such a hopeful person… How could I have expected anything less than punishment? Oh well… I’ll gladly take it with a smile, especially from the likes of him! I can’t believe I had the good luck to get to hear him speak to me!  _

Nagito starts feel himself slipping into one of his “spirals,” as he had nicknamed them, but as usual, he is at its mercy. 

“Ah.. aha.. Ahaha! I’m so sorry, Izuru! I made you waste your precious time on a worm such as me… I’m lower than dirt! Please, let me make it up to you! You can do anything you want to me… Tie me up, torture me, beat me half to death…” As he stands up, attempting to remove himself from the other figure’s presence, his foot accidentally catches on something. The following few seconds are understandably a bit of a blur, but they happen something like this.

As soon as he tries to stand up, he trips and falls over the chair. This causes him to tumble into the small table, knocking it over. The table then ricochets into the wall, causing a faulty ceiling panel to come loose. This ceiling panel then falls on the door, knocking the handle off, effectively trapping them in the room. This ceiling panel happens to be connected to the wiring for the lights, shutting half of them off, with a slight popping noise. This popping noise combined with Nagito’s original trip and the removal of the table as an obstacle leads the two boys to crash together, sprawling on the floor in the near darkness. 

Nagito, whose eyes were clenched shut during the entire debacle, slowly opens them to see the broken ceiling shards and electrical discharge- and more importantly, the Ultimate Hope pinned on the floor beneath his skinny arms. 

“I-I-I’m so sorry!” He quickly pulls back from the other ultimate, closing his eyes tight again and holding his hands near his head, as far away from the other boy’s chest as possible.  

“I-Uh- Please forgive me!!” 

Contrary to what he expects, the other boy doesn’t throw him off immediately. In fact, he doesn’t even seem mad. Opening his eyes a little bit, Nagito catches a peek at his face: Izuru’s unattached expression has evaporated, replaced by a burning, intense stare. It is the first time that Nagito has seen the exact color of his eyes. They are blood red.

“Nagito Komaeda.”

He gulps. But, hearing the other boy say his name, with that tone of voice… Blood rushes to his face, as much as he tries to stop it.

“Tell me more about yourself.”


	2. Second Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hugs

It has been a week since their last meeting. Nagito feels somewhat nervous to meet Izuru again- it had been determined that they he would come over once a week on Fridays, supposedly to help the researchers test both of their luck. Of course, Izuru is pulling the strings. He had informed Nagito before they were seperated that he  _ would  _ be seeing him again, before asking what days would work the best with his school schedule. Nagito responded with Fridays. Fridays were arranged. 

As Nagito walks into Izuru’s room, he reflects on how much security they make you go through just to meet him. Luckily for him, they didn’t find the knife hidden in his shoe. Just in case! Of course, he would never use it on the ultimate hope- 

“Hello, Nagito Komaeda.” 

A dark voice shocks him out of his thoughts. 

“Ah! Izuru! I mean- if it’s alright to call you that...”

“I’ll permit it.” 

He locates the voice’s origin, sitting in the corner. Izuru seems to have jammed himself in the least visible spot from the door, like a spider, afraid of the movement around it. Seeing him curled up on the floor, twiddling his fingers… Nagito feels a lot less afraid. He shuts the door as he passes through it and crouches down next to the small shadow. Not before moving his long hair out of the way, of course. Wouldn’t want to ruin its soft sheen with the soles of his disgusting shoes. The way it curls and folds around the two of them makes Izuru look just a bit like he’s fading away, dissipating into the brightly lit corner. 

“Hey, how you holding up in here?”  _ Stupid Question. _ It was just… something about his posture seems almost depressing, especially in comparison to their first meeting. The power and strength contained in Izuru’s presence seems to have been pulled away, like a curtain yanked off a window. 

“I am perfect.” Izuru continues to stare at his fingers as he laces them back and forth, almost hypnotically.

“Cool, cool.” Nagito manages to get most of his hair out of the way, so he sits down on the floor next to him.

“...If it is too cold, I can have the temperature brought up for you.” 

“What?” Izuru doesn’t respond further. “Oh, I meant… You know, slang. Cool as in, awesome.” 

“I don’t think anything I stated was all that awe-inspiring.” He keeps a completely straight face as he says this, never looking back from his fingers.

“Oh my god.” Nagito gives a small chuckle, prompting a small, almost imperceptible frown on Izuru’s face. This leads to the chuckle becoming a full-on laugh. 

“What are you doing? I didn’t say anything funny.” 

“No! It’s just- Haha, oh my god… I can’t believe I was anxious about talking to you again!” 

“Do I make you anxious?”   
A small waver appears in his voice when he speaks, as nearly imperceptible as his frown.  _ He cares about my opinion of him. _ The thought registers in Nagito’s brain, but he quickly denies it.  _ Of course not! The ultimate hope has much better things to care about then some pitiful teenage loser! _

“If I do, I apologize. Such is not my intent.” 

“Oh, it’s ok! You’re fine, Izuru! Please!! I’d take any kind of treatment you’d give me!”   
“Please do not say that. I do not want to harm you.” 

The two of them sit in silence for about a minute. Nagito takes the time to fully examine their surroundings. The room is small, far too small for one person to be trapped in. Everything is colored a hard white, which kind of hurts his eyes. He would imagine Izuru feels the same. The table and chairs from before are pushed to the second corner of the room, and in the third, a thin bed along with a set of sheets and pillows sit somewhat despairingly. All are colored the same white, no other furniture or objects to be seen. Hardly acceptable living conditions.  _ How can you treat another human being like this, nonetheless the ultimate hope? No wonder he looks so vulnerable. _

“Am I… The only person who comes to visit you?” 

“No. Researchers come in here to perform various tests.”  
 _God._ _What are they doing to him._  
“Please do not be upset. It is mostly just related to fostering my talents, with the occasional health checkups.” 

“Oh, Izuru… That’s not why I’m upset.” 

Without thinking, Nagito reaches over slightly, wrapping his arms around the other boy. Flinching initially, after a few moments Izuru gives in to the other’s touch. Suddenly, he shifts all his weight on to Nagito, grabbing his waist and toppling them to the floor. His hair follows, falling gently over the two of them, tangling in the folds of their clothes, trapping them both like insects in a web. A silky, comforting web. 

“My apologies,” he responds, but doesn’t let go.

“Do you want to…” “No.” Izuru cuts off Nagito before he can even get the sentence out. Not that he minds. The floor isn’t that uncomfortable, and Izuru’s touch makes up for it.

They remain like that for a few hours. Izuru buries his face in his jacket, close to his chest, seemingly trying to envelop himself in the touch. Eventually, a supervisor comes in to tell him that it is time for him to leave, although he mutters something unsavory when he sees the two collapsed on the floor together. When Nagito props himself up, the rest of Izuru’s hair gently slides off him, pooling around his legs like a dark waterfall. Izuru’s arms also slowly slide off his waist, as if they wanted maintain the physical contact for as long as possible. As Nagito stands up to exit, he hears the other boy whisper quietly from the floor, almost inaudibly:

“Please come back.” 

He gives Izuru a warm smile, then turns and walks out the door, but not before responding:   
“I promise I will.”


	3. Third Meeting

He gets a note during his homeroom the following Monday.

“Please come down to the facility immediately.”

When he walks in, he doesn’t see why. Everything seems calm- a bit too calm, in fact. A few of the researchers seem surprised to see him, but nobody stops him, even going so far as to not bother to search him for dangerous items before he enters Izuru’s cell. He’s decided to call it a cell.

Izuru is pacing the room. There is a new item in it. It is a whiteboard, covered with

some sort of gibberish that he doesn’t understand. Most of it mathematical terms, with some small diagrams. Seeing Nagito, Izuru stops pacing, and turns abruptly towards him.

“Nagito Komaeda. Excellent. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Ah, so it was you who called me… What’s wrong? I was in the middle of class… Not that that’s an issue, though!! Haha!”

Izuru tilts his head a bit, in his almost imperceptible manner that Nagito has started to become used to looking for.

“You know, school. I go to school here.”

This seems to genuinely confuse Izuru, as he puts his hand to his chin in thought.

“So, this is a school as well… I assumed that this was just a research facility, and they were treating me this way because of my age.” After a pause for some quiet reflection, he looks up.

“Oh. You were in class. I apologize, please feel free to return. I have nothing urgent for you.”

“No, no! It’s ok! I don’t mind. I feel honored that someone like you would want to interact with scum like me!”

That nearly invisible frown appears on his face again.   
“Please do not refer to yourself as scum. You are miles ahead of the rest of the researchers who have visited me, and you are not even half their age.”

Nagito snorts. “On what terms? Annoyance?”

Izuru retorts: “Physically, for one. Though there are many more.”

Nagito can feel himself starting to get red, before he realizes what he must have meant, allowing him to subdue it. “Izuru, I’m not even half as strong as the adults-”

“Not strength. Attractiveness.”

That brings back his blush in full strength. At the sight of the color in his cheeks, Izuru gives a small smile, one that he himself doesn’t seem to be aware of. This only makes the problem worse. God, why can’t I control my emotions around him? I really am the scum of the earth.

“I assumed you would not be able to accept this proposition, so I decided to prove it to you with mathematics.” With a flick of his wrist, he flips the whiteboard over. There is a perfectly drawn diagram of Nagito on the back, clothed in his usual outfit, with most of his body parts labelled. There seems to be great attention drawn to his facial region, hands, and waist, as they are highlighted in red ink.

“As you can see here, your jawline perfectly follows the mathematical formula of many of the golden ratios used in the school of arts.”

Nagito watches him intensely, enraptured by his every motion. He can feel his ability to maintain his composure decaying around him. That’s not good. Izuru’s long hair seems to constantly flow down around him while he gestures at the board, like a soft blanket of darkness falling over the world. He has abandoned his suit coat, leaving it perfectly folded on the bed, exposing his shirt and tie. His tie has slightly loosened itself, exposing a bit of his neck. It is driving Nagito crazy. I need to stop looking at his neck. The white in his shirt brings attention to his face, and it’s perfectly molded features. He looks more like a greek statue then a person. The one thing that convinces Nagito of his aliveness, though, is his eyes- he can see they shine like the moon when he periodically looks back towards him from his seemingly memorized speech. A soft, gentle shine, yet one that stands out all the same. His eyes look entirely different from when they first met. He looks entirely different from when they first met. He is gorgeous. As much as Nagito tries to get the thought to leave his head, it refuses, persisting like a parasite attached to the back of his brain. At least, that’s how he feels about it.

“Have I convinced you yet?”

“What?” Oh god, I didn’t hear a word he said.

“Are you…” He pauses for a moment, seemingly scanning his database for a word. “Alright? You seem to be unable to focus. If you want, I can help you with that. My talents include the ultimate psychiatrist, doctor, physical therapist, behavioral scientist…”

“No, no! I’m really alright! I’m just…” Nagito desperately searches for a good reason, other then the truth. “I’m… worried about class. I have a lot of work to do, and all that…” The reaction that he receives is subtle, but it still makes his heart hurt. The shine in Izuru’s eyes slowly dims til it disappears, and he purses his lips a bit. Not out of anger, but seemingly out of sadness, and a bit of… disappointment?  Somehow, Nagito feels disappointed, too.

“Of course. I apologize for taking up your time. Please, return to your class.”

“Yeah. I’m really, really sorry. I can’t imagine how you put up a disgusting idiot like me.”

As he turns to leave, Izuru calls out to him, his voice foregoing it’s usual calmness.

“Wait!”

Surprised to hear such enthusiasm, he whips his head around in surprise.

“W-what?!”

“I…” Izuru seems to be just as surprised as he is, as he leaves his mouth frozen in position for a solid second before he recovers and continues.

“...I will still see you on Friday, correct?”

“Yeah, of course! Don’t worry!”

This seems to calm him down, as the troubled half-expression leaves his face.

“Thank you, Nagito Komaeda.”

“Of course!!”

The last Nagito sees of him is a tiny glimpse over his shoulder as he exits the room. Izuru Kamukura does not look like his normal self. Izuru Kamukura’s lips have taken on a small frown, and his eyes look sad.


	4. Fourth Meeting

The first thing Nagito notices is his demeanor. 

Izuru Kamukura has seemingly returned to normal. Not the normal that he was used to by now, mind you- the normal that the shorter boy would use around everyone else. Nagito had seen it briefly when they first met, and when researchers would come in to record test results or ask things of them.  

A darkness seems to emanate from him, spilling out of his skin and into the room around him. Half the lights seem to have been turned off, casting him in shadow. The bed has been pushed up against the wall, directly in line of view of the door, with a singular chair seated across from it. All of the other furniture has been removed. Barely silhouetted in the darkness, Nagito can see him on top of the bed, his back pressed against the wall. In contrast to his usual perfect posture, he’s hunched himself over, balancing his head on his one bent leg held near his face by his two thin arms wrapped loosely around it. His dark hair expands around him, running itself over his perfectly pressed suit and falling onto the floor, in seemingly endless waves of black. All of this pulls attention to his eyes, and as he stares directly at Nagito, he understands why. They are shining at the sight of him, but differently then before- sharp and calculating, like a brand-new knife being scraped against his skin. Nagito knows that all of this is meant to intimidate him. Instead, he just feels exhilarated. 

“Please, take a seat.” 

Compelled to go along with his narrative, Nagito complies, sitting down in the chair that has been provided for him. 

“Mm. What’s all this, then?”

“Nagito Komaeda, I am no fool.”   
_ Ah. So he’s figured it out, then. That I’m… Well, I’m not going to give myself up so easily, am I? What kind of stepping stone would I be if I did that?! _

“What do you mean, Izuru?” He gives the other figure a smile, innocent to most people, though he was sure that the ultimate sitting across from him could easily discern the threat laced within it.  _ Try and expose me, Izuru Kamukura. I’d like to see that.  _

Nagito could see the wheels in the other boy’s brain turning as he took a pause before responding. 

“You think I can’t detect when you’re lying to me, Nagito Komaeda?”

Nagito gives a short, almost sadistic laugh before cutting himself abruptly off. 

“Ha… Ha… HAHAH! Lying! To you, Izuru? You can’t be serious-”

“I am deadly serious, as I am with anything that I do, and everything that I touch. It is in my programming. Enough formalities.”    
He starts lacing his fingers back and forth. 

“I have lost your respect.”

“What?”

“I have revealed too much of my hand to you, and in doing so, I have lost your respect, as a man. I won’t make that mistake again, Nagito Komaeda. You are a formidable opponent.”   
This reaction was… not what he was expecting.  _ I guess he hasn’t figured out my feelings yet.  _ Nagito lets out a laugh, a relaxed one this time. All tension leaves the room, as with this reaction, Izuru gives one of his signature tiny frowns, utterly destroying his hardened image. 

“Explain yourself.”   
“Oh man, Izuru… That’s not it at all! You got it totally wrong!” 

This only throws off Izuru more, as he gives a genuinely confused look, the sharpness bleeding out of his eyes. 

“Impossible. My logic is always flawless. You do not want to be around me because I am pathetic and clingy.”

“Pathetic? Clingy? What are you talking about?! I can’t believe that you can even stand to interact with me!” 

Nagito takes this opportunity to remove himself from the chari, walking to the door to turn on the lights. Izuru flinches in response to the brightness, then changes his position on the bed, curling into a ball propped up against the wall. He avoids Nagito’s eyes. 

“I am constantly asking the researchers to see you. I called you out of class just because I was lonely. I… I keep hoping that maybe, you’ll let me be held by you again, just for a little bit. I know I’m not supposed to want these things. I’m pathetic.” 

“Izuru…” Instead of returning to the chair, Nagito sits down next to the curled up shadow on the bed, and places a hand on his shoulder. 

“That… That doesn’t sound like you, to criticize yourself in this way. Did someone else say that?” 

Izuru attempts to resist the touch, but after a second, gives up. He leans his head on Nagito’s hand, exhausted.

“...Yes.”

_ God damnit.  _ Nagito felt his other hand clench in anger. He could barely stop himself from shaking.  _ How dare anyone talk to the ultimate hope like this. How dare they tell him he’s pathetic. Do they even understand how utterly insignificant they are, in comparison to him? Do they even... _

The subtle touch of the ultimate’s hand on his fist brings him back to reality. 

“Ah… I’m sorry, Izuru. You don’t deserve to have those low-lifes harassing you.”

“It is alright.” 

“No, it’s not! You’re allowed to want… whatever you want! You’re the ultimate hope!! You deserve anything you desire!”

Izuru pauses for a moment, thinking about that statement, before responding quietly.

“I want another hug.” 

Nagito smiles.

“I don’t know why you would want a hug from a worthless peon such as myself, but… I’ll happily comply!”

He reaches over and puts his arms around the other boy, covering most of him with his jacket in the process. Izuru moves with him, wrapping his arms around his midsection, burying his face in Nagito’s shirt. The crispness of the dark suit digs in to his skin a little, but it doesn’t bother him. He gently strokes the other boy’s hair, weaving it between his fingers. The motion puts him at ease, and Izuru seems to enjoy it, too. After a few minutes of this, Izuru closes his eyes, his grip loosening. Nagito pulls him back on the bed in response, letting him fall flat on the mattress with him.  _ I can’t let the ultimate hope fall asleep in my arms. Knowing me, I’d probably drop him… I deserve to be tied up and beat senseless if I do that, haha!  _ Izuru stirs for a moment at the sudden movement, but quickly transitions back in to near slumber, never detaching from his companion. His eyes gently close, his mouth slightly agape, pushed in to Nagito’s chest. His hair has somehow maintained its ability to remain untangled despite the mess that they find themselves in, settling around their arms and legs. Nagito realizes he is covered in it, too. He has become so used to the feeling that he didn’t even notice it happen. He considers attempting to remove Izuru’s jacket so that he is more comfortable, but decides against it, as waking him up (even on accident) seems wrong, somehow. Compared to the previous despair emanating from his pores, Izuru now seems more like an angel of hope, surrounded by a halo made of pillows. Nagito gently pushes a strand of hair out of his face so he can get a better look, causing the boy to shudder slightly before returning to his peaceful state. A small blush comes to his face, realizing just how close together they find themselves.  _ Ah, how lucky, that I was chosen to help him… I guess things really do work out!  _ They remain entangled together for a long time, Nagito just staring fondly at Izuru’s face. Nobody comes to separate them. His last thought before falling asleep with him is this:  _ Hopefully the bad luck doesn’t destroy us both.  _


	5. Fifth Meeting

On this particular Friday, Nagito is not feeling too well. Fog swirls through his mind, and he almost collapses on the way to the research facility. When he reaches the door to Izuru’s cell, he slowly leans against the side of the wall, attempting to rally his strength.  _ If he sees me like this… He’ll just send me back to my room to rest. I don’t think I can handle not seeing him for another week.  _ This last thought surprised Nagito. Is he really becoming that obsessed with the other boy…? He pauses on that thought for a moment or two before he summons his resolve and walks through the door. 

“Nagito Komaeda. You are not well. Go home.” 

_ Damn.  _

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Izuru! I… I feel… Uh…” As soon as the half-sentence leaves his mouth, the taller boy falls to the ground, utterly spent. His fever from earlier in the day comes back in full force, causing him to start sweating all over. Izuru moves quickly, lifting him off the floor and propping him against his shoulder. He moves Nagito over to the bed, which has been relocated back to the corner.

“Please just rest. You need to regain your strength.” 

“Ah… Izuru… To be tended to… By the likes of you…” Nagito can feel him losing himself to the sickness, in more ways than one. Blood races to his cheeks and ears, and as much as he wishes that he could say it was because of the illness, he knows that would be a blatant lie. Izuru holds his hand against his forehead in return, checking the boy’s temperature. When he pulls his hand away, he finds it covered in sweat, which he wipes on his shirt. A small stain forms, which makes Nagito feel even more guilty about needing medical attention.  _ First, my pitiful constitution makes him have to look after me, and now, I’ve ruined his shirt… I really am nothing more than a waste of air... _

“What could have possibly made you come here in this condition, Nagito Komaeda…” He mutters, seemingly to himself. 

“Ah… I wouldn’t… Miss you… For the world…” 

“You’re still conscious? Just relax.” Nagito can feel two hands gently lifting him up and removing his coat before slowly placing themselves on his wrist. 

“I’m checking your vitals.” 

Unexpectedly, Izuru runs his hands up his arms, across his shoulders, to his neck and head, ending up cupping his face. Nagito can feel himself flushing harder, and his sweating becomes even worse.

“Interesting.” Apparently, Izuru is not responding to his increased blood circulation, as he is staring intently at his hands. Slowly, the boy hovering above him starts to run his fingers through his hair.  _ He’s not examining me. He already knows what the problem is. He’s doing… Something, that’s for sure.  _

“I… Izu…”

“Ah.” Izuru retracts his hands quickly, seemingly… Ashamed? “My apologies. I was thinking about what to do. That was inappropriate.” After a pause, he stands up, placing his hand on his patient’s shoulder before quickly removing it, apparently having touched him on accident again. “Please excuse me for a second.” The last thing that Nagito sees clearly is Izuru opening the door to his room.  _ He could leave whenever he wanted, huh…  _ Then, everything goes black. 

 

Some time later, Nagito wakes up to see Izuru looming over him. The first thing he notices is that he feels a lot better.

“Welcome back. How do you feel?” 

He gives out a tiny yawn.

“I think you already know how I feel, but I appreciate you asking...” Looking to his right, he sees that Izuru has pulled the table out from the corner of the room to the side of his bed. A variety of empty chemical bottles and a few used injection needles lie on it. The extent of the medical equipment shocks him, snapping him out of his sleepy state.

“What… What did you do to me?”

Izuru looks off to the side, avoiding the other boy’s confused and slightly afraid stare. 

“I read your medical files while I was out. I saw diagnosed cases of lymphoma and frontotemporal lobe dementia, so I took the liberty of curing them for you. Not before confirming for myself that the diagnosis was correct, of course. I hope that was alright. I know I should have asked for your consent, but... The situation was dire.” He pushes a bottle of pills into Nagito’s hands, still avoiding eye contact. “I also brought you these, for anxiety, depression, and intrusive thoughts. If you so choose to use them.” 

All Nagito can do is stare. Izuru’s eyes somewhat nervously peek at him from behind his curtain of hair.

“Was that wrong? I can undo if, if you would prefer…”

“No! No! Please! I just…” He can feel his hands shaking violently, with no idea what the correct reaction was supposed to be to this news.

“Cured, huh…”

“Many doctors would determine your brain damage to be permanent, but with a bit of surgery, I believe that I can restore it.” Gently rocking his fingers back and forth, Izuru turns his view away from Nagito and back to his hands. “Physical therapy would be extremely beneficial for your body, and emotional therapy would be beneficial for restoring your mental stability, but neither are necessary. The medication I gave you will help as well.” 

Nagito slowly turns the bottle over in his hands, reading the label for the first time. It consists of a set of incredibly neatly written and detailed instructions, as well as a small personal note on the bottom, that reads: “Don’t forget to take one pill a day in the mornings.” A small, perfectly symmetrical heart is drawn next to it. Upon seeing it, Nagito can no longer hold the tears back from his eyes. 

Seeing him cry shocks Izuru out of his withdrawn state. 

“What- No!” Hearing the emotion in his voice just makes Nagito cry harder, which makes Izuru more upset. His eyes fully widen for the first time, and Nagito can see all of their detail- they shine with a pretty glean, just like he thought they would, and the bright red color perfectly compliments the small upset blush forming on his face. 

“Please don't cry! I can undo it!” Through the sobs, Nagito manages to force out a sentence. 

“No- I- I’m so happy!” He reaches over and gives Izuru the tightest hug he can manage from his awkward sitting position. “This- I can’t believe you’d do something like this, for me…” Izuru shifts his body to better accommodate the physical affection, before carefully draping his arms over Nagito as well, returning the gesture.

“Of course. Anything you want, I can give to you.” 

This response sends Nagito back into tears. He buries his head in Izuru’s hair, continually stuttering his gratitude, until he eventually runs out of things to say, and just lays his head on the other’s shoulder. 

“What… Am I going to die, still?” The words make their way through his lips gently, almost slipping out on accident. The pause that Izuru takes before responding seems to last an eternity. 

“I predict you may live a few years less than average, but you should live around the same amount as a completely healthy person. Especially if I have anything to do with it.” 

Nagito buries his head further into Izuru’s hair. After a few minutes of sitting like this, he speaks in almost a whisper:

“I’m scared of what will happen to you.” 

“What?” Izuru’s eyes bore into the back of his head, but Nagito avoids the gaze, buried too deep into the dark curtains of hair to even hope to find eye contact. 

“This is too lucky, meeting you. Something horrible is going to happen. I don’t know what it is, but… I’m so sorry, in advance...” Izuru gives an extremely concerned look in response, for him. It would almost be noticeable by a complete stranger.

“It’s going to be alright, Nagito Komaeda... My luck cancels out yours. It’s a simple mathematical equation, like the gravitational fields between two planets of the same size and mass, ignoring other factors. To simplify it, when an object with a given mass is dropped between them, they both exert the same amount of gravitational force on the object, causing it to move towards neither field due to the net force being zero. Except in our situation, we are the planets, and the gravitational field is the luck field. We are also not identical, so I have to adjust my field of luck to match the variables, and specifically, your own.” 

“I passed freshman physics, Izuru. But… Luck as an adjustable field?” Nagito frowns, still buried in Izuru’s hair, though he removes himself just a bit. “I always saw it as an uncontrollable force, something that just kept itself generally in balance, by causing… Events...”

“That’s what people said about gravity, before they understood the science behind it. Everyone is born with a specific field of luck. Some people are naturally born with better luck, others with worse. You were born with an extremely unpredictable and volatile luck field- constantly switching between positive and negative, with little control over it yourself, though your emotional state contributes to it significantly. If you would like, I could teach you how to manage it. It is not so difficult once you get used to it.”

Nagito goes silent for a moment, overwhelmed, before releasing himself from Izuru’s grasp. A sigh escapes his lips. 

“This is… A lot to process, I’m sorry. I’m sure that this information would be better suited for someone a lot more competent than me!” An exhausted laugh escapes his lips, though Izuru just looks a bit apprehensive in response.

“I know you understood all of that. Don’t downplay your abilities.” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

Slowly, he stands up from the bed, giving Izuru a smile, and stretching his arms above his head. 

“I suppose that you were stroking my hair earlier to calm me down, so that my luck wasn’t as strong while you weren’t around, then?”

Izuru quickly snaps his head to a position where Nagito can’t see his face. He was sure that he caught a hint of blush on the other boy’s cheeks before he turned, though.

“Yes. That’s exactly right.” He pauses for a moment before turning back around, straight-faced as usual.  _ I suppose I was just seeing what I wanted to see.  _ “I sincerely apologize if I made you uncomfortable, such was not my intention. I should have asked permission before touching you, especially… I should have asked permission.” The falter made Nagito second-guess his previous internal dialogue.

“Ah, it’s fine, Izuru! You can do anything you want to me! If you wanted to pin me down and touch me all over, I would happily let you!!” Izuru visibly cringes at this reply, which makes Nagito consider the fact that he has said something wrong. He really doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable, especially after all that he’s done to help a meaningless peasant such as himself. 

“Nagito Komaeda, under no condition am I going to sexually assault you, nor do I hold any desire to do so.” Suddenly, he glances to the door. “It is almost time for you to be removed from the premises. Before you leave, though…” He pauses for a moment, choosing his words very carefully. “Is there something that I have done to make you believe that you deserve to be mistreated by me? Especially in such… graphic detail?” 

“Oh no, of course not! You’ve been nothing but absolutely wonderful to me, Izuru!” The positive smile appears back on Nagito’s face. “That’s why I keep suggesting it! I don’t deserve to be tolerated by such a wonderful person as yourself! The hope that shines within you… It’s light deserves to be seen by the world, not wasted on a garbage person such as myself!” 

Izuru’s face turns troubled, creating a distinct frown. 

“Nagito Komaeda, you are not trash. If you were trash, I would not have spent the time to cure your illnesses, and I would have not spent the energy calling you back every week. You should hold more confidence in my decision to trust in you, and you should hold more confidence in your own abilities, as they are quite apparent in their usefulness. You are not a waste of breath, you are a person worthy of living in this world- perhaps one of the only ones. Keep that on your mind as you walk home tonight.” Ending on that note, Izuru sat back down in his bed as a researcher entered the room to call Nagito out. As he walked out of the research station, he considered what was suggested to him. And it may have been the uplifting news about his life expectancy, or the physical contact with someone he admired so deeply, or the bottle of pills that was rattling between his hands as he walked, but he seriously considered that Izuru might be right. 


	6. Sixth Meeting

“I- I lost the pills! I’m so sorry, Izuru! I’m such a waste of air! I don’t deserve you!!” It is the following Saturday morning, and Nagito finds himself sobbing into the arms of the dark-haired figure again. In a change of pace from their usual outfits, Izuru is wearing a crisp logo-less dress shirt and white pants. It makes him look much more like a medical patient then usual, or some kind of ghost. It also makes his chest much more visible when Nagito gets his wet tears all over his shirt.  

“Don’t cry, Nagito Komaeda. They’re most likely behind your bedside table. I have many extras prepared in case you don’t find them.”

“Ah, but I’ll never find them! My room is such a mess!!” He feels utterly crushed.  _ How could I have even entertained the thought of being someone worthwhile, when I can’t even do such a simple task…? _ Izuru, ultimate psychiatrist that he is, easily picks up on the fact that this outburst is about much more than just a simple bottle of pills. 

“I can help you find them, if you would like. Would that be satisfactory?” Nagito nods, and he stands up, pulling the wispy-haired boy up with him. “Follow me.” 

Slowly, he pulls the door open, scanning for researchers. Seeing none around, he quickly yanks Nagito down a hallway to the left. Being careful to avoid all security cameras, he expertly makes the trek to a side entrance, leaving the building with style and grace. A person of normal athletic prowess would probably find it difficult, but luckily for Nagito, Izuru’s skills with helping others is on par with his skills of performing the tasks by himself. With a few directions from Nagito, they find themselves at his door.

“It’s, um, really messy. Please just pretend you don’t notice how much of a depressing slob I am. Or berate me for it. Whatever you’d like!!” He pulls it open, revealing the room inside.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad, especially for a teenage boy living alone-” As soon as Izuru sees the mess, he closes his mouth. The room really is a disaster. The walls are crumbling from mass amounts of damage, and one of them holds a couple bullet holes. The door to the bathroom is utterly destroyed, bearing a few marks from what seems to be some sort of knife. 

“All of these are from accidents?” 

“Yeah. I’ve never gotten hurt badly though, so don’t worry!” As he tries to close the door behind him, Izuru stops it with his foot. 

“Wait a second. I have to acquire some tools.” He quickly steps out of the room, moving out of Nagito’s view. 

Around ten minutes pass with Izuru not returning. Nagito spends the time cleaning up what he can, small things, like clothes and weapons. Just as he has convinced himself that the other boy fled out of fear, or perhaps disgust, he hears a knock at the door. Suddenly, Izuru. He swings the door open with confidence, carrying with him a toolbox and assorted paints and drywall repair materials. His clothing has completely dried, and the wrinkles Nagito previously created in his shirt have somehow disappeared. Seeing him out of the white room makes Nagito realize just how wrong his initial judgement of him as a living shadow was. His white clothes are almost blindingly new, especially in comparison to the dismal room around him. His hair pools to the floor, flowing around the bits of rubble on the ground like a waterfall crashing down on the willing earth. The red color in his eyes shines much brighter than any of the lights in the room, much brighter than anything around him, pulling the viewer into his smiling face. He’s smiling.  _ I shouldn’t have brought him here. He doesn’t deserve to be pulled in to my petty issues. He isn’t like me. He is a living, breathing deity. I am but a meaningless follower. _

“I don’t think it’s as bad as it seems. Shouldn’t take us more than an hour to patch up, less time if we work together effectively.” He sets the tools down next to the bed, while Nagito merely stares. 

“Come here. I’ll show you how to use the repair kit.” 

For the next hour, they work together in silence. Izuru does most of the heavy lifting. Nagito can’t take his eyes off him. There’s something about the way that he poses himself while working that he can’t help but find extremely enthralling, and, what the hell, attractive. Occasionally, they bump into each other while filling in the cracks, and Nagito mumbles, “Sorry,” but that’s the extent of their interaction. At the end of the process, while reaching down to pull one last piece of drywall out from behind his bedside table, Nagito finds the pill bottle. He holds it triumphantly, at an arms length away. 

“Found it!”

“Congratulations. See, I knew you could do it on your own.”

Izuru moves in closer to get a better look at the pill bottle. He is standing a few feet away.

“I only found it because you suggested we fix the walls.”

Nagito pulls the bottle closer to him, putting it in his pocket in one swift movement. Izuru moves another foot closer. 

“Maybe so, but you still did it by yourself. You’re plenty capable, Nagito Komaeda.” 

Izuru moves another step closer. The distance reduces itself to inches.

“Nagito. Just… Nagito. Please.” 

He can feel how close Izuru is to him.  _ When did he get so close. This is… far too close. _

“Just Nagito, huh… I enjoy the familiarity. It is pleasant.”

He can feel the body heat coming off of Izuru. Sweat beads on Nagito’s face in response.  _ Oh god.  _

“Izuru...”

Izuru places a hand on his upper arm, and moves in another millimeter, somewhat unconsciously. With that, Nagito Komaeda loses control. 

 

Before either of them can fully process the situation, Nagito shifts his weight forwards, pulling Izuru in to his chest. He pulls Izuru against him, using his arms to firmly grip his frame before gently pressing their lips together. Nagito’s eyes are closed. Izuru’s are not. After about four seconds, they break apart. He can’t stop shaking. The regret is immediate.

“Oh, god, I, I, I’m so-” 

Before he has a chance to apologize, he is forcefully pushed against the wall. Izuru grabs the sides of his head with both of his hands, pushing his fingers into the roots of his hair, though not painfully so. Their lips meet again, though this time, much more passionately. Izuru moves one of his hands from Nagito’s hair to his hand, melding their skin together with his fingers. The movement is rough and choppy, inconsistent with his usual calculated and composed demeanor. When they finally break apart, it is not out of choice, but out of necessity for air. 

“I,” pants Izuru, “Have wanted to do that for a long time.” 

Nagito slides down to the floor, physically and emotionally exhausted. Izuru joins him, letting his whole body fall into direct contact with the ground. For the first time, Nagito sees sweat on the other boy’s skin.  _ God, how could I have marred his perfect face with my horrible mouth? I hate myself. I hate- _

The same hand that gripped him just a moment ago finds it’s hold around his own again, and immediately the intrusive thoughts cease. It takes him a moment to find the red eyes peeking out at him from behind the curtain of hair. 

“Nagito. I really, really like you.”

A smile forms on his face. Not a small one, like before. One that brilliantly shines through the poorly lit room, through the swathes of hair covering the rest of his face, directly though Nagito’s heart.

“Fuck what the researchers say.” 

He is barely able to force the words out of his breathless lungs, still exhausted from the previous kiss, but he gets them out all the same. Choppy, breathless laughter erupts from Nagito’s mouth. Izuru does the same. They stay like that on the floor for a long time, bathing in their shared euphoria. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic... Hope you enjoy!! A lot of people know me as eggboy64 on tumblr, so I'll hopefully have some promo art up on there, if you would like to view it. I know I'm still an inexperienced writer but I hope that some people smile at what I made at least haha!!! I think pretty obviously this is inspired by the concept of that other popular fic, Izuru Kamukura's cuddly toy (https://archiveofourown.org/works/14623173/chapters/33794814), so read that because it's better


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